


Mis-Matched

by VixenIchigo



Category: Red vs. Blue
Genre: Anal Sex, Cuz Ya Know, Gay Sex, It's Tucker, M/M, Oral Sex, Sexual Content, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-12
Updated: 2014-12-12
Packaged: 2018-03-01 04:34:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2759783
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VixenIchigo/pseuds/VixenIchigo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tucker and Washington's Soulmate Tattoos don't match. But they don't care. Might as well have fun before they meet their ball-and-chain right?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Let's Make the Most of the Night Like We're Gonna Die Young

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Tucker, Washington or Red Vs. Blue. This is purely fan made work for entertainment purposes only.
> 
> Idea came from http://agenttexsflippedshit.tumblr.com/

Prologue:

They didn't know how exactly it had started. I just happened, and when it did, they agreed nothing romantic would come from it. They weren't meant for each other. Fate had already decided that.

Tucker glanced down and the pink cursive writing just below his collar bone. _Susanna._

So they kept it mutual. No cuddling or lingering kisses or displays of any kind of affection. Wash had agreed it was for the best, especially when fate had decided he would belong to another.

Wash absentmindedly rubbed his right wrist where black blocky letters had etched themselves onto his skin at 16 years of age. **JAMES.**

It was just a bit of release considering they were stuck in the middle of nowhere with no one but the Reds and Blue of Blood Gulch, and neither of them found the others ideal for sexual activity.

 

 

Tucker hadn't been able to sleep that night. It was stuffy and humid in some sort of jungle in the middle of nowhere. Tossing back onto his back for the fourth time that night, he groaned and decided to venture into a favourite past-time of his. Slipping a hand down into his briefs, he started rubbing himself, using his other hand to tweak one his sensitive nipples. He felt himself harden slightly. When his hand started to rub against the fabric uncomfortably he decided to discard the item of clothing completely. He was now bare to the open air, he was just glad it wasn't a place like Sidewinder.

A small groan escaped him, sounding way too loud in the silence of the night. Footsteps outside his door in the hallway caused him to pause for a moment, not wanting anyone to barge in, especially Caboose. After a few moments of silence, he felt safe to continue stroking himself. It was only when the door to his room opened and a head of short bleach blonde hair came into view when he realised his mistake.

"Tucker, are you oka . . . " Wash's face went bright red upon realising what Tucker had been doing.

"Get out asshole!" Tucker nearly yelled, still very aware that Caboose was asleep not far down the hall and threw one of his pillows at Wash’s head.

When Wash didn't move, Tucker rolled his eyes and reached for his sheets. Upon hearing the door snap closed, he looked up, fully expecting to have been finally left alone, only to find Wash still standing there, pillow in hand, looking down at it, face so red his freckles were popping out.

He would've looked extremely cute and sexy if Tucker was not already pissed off.

"Need help?" It was whispered so quietly, Tucker almost missed it.

"What?"

"I said," Wash began, looking up to face Tucker, cheeks still flushed and biting his bottom lip ( _Holy shit,_ was the thought that rand through Tucker's head), "Do you need help . . . with that."

Tucker went silent. While one part of him was screaming for him to say yes, accept the attention and opportunity, another part was questioning why Wash was offering in the first place.

"Um, I . . . I, uh," Tucker stuttered, feeling his cheeks flush and his dick twitch.

Wash moved towards Tucker, laid the pillow down and crawled onto the bed next to him. Tucker found himself leaning back on his hands ( _When did I let go of myself?_ ) and Wash leaned forward, attaching his lips to Tucker’s neck. Tucker groaned and Wash took that as permission to continue. Reaching down, Wash grabbed Tucker’s length, stroking him softly while moving his lips down to his collarbone.

“Susanna aye?” Wash mumbled. “Hope she’s pretty.”

“What’s your tattoo’s name?” Tucker asked curiously.

“James.” Wash moved down to one of Tucker’s nipples and sucked softly, making Tucker roll his hips into Wash’s hand. Tucker threw his head back and moaned softly. Tucker moved his hands under Wash’s shirt and lifted, removing the item of clothing and chucking it on the floor beside his bed. Rolling them over, Tucker slipped his fingers under the band of Wash’s track pants and briefs and slipped them down his pale legs, discarding them in the same place as Wash’s shirt.

“Jesus Christ dude, you are absolutely covered in freckles,” Tucker exclaimed, looking Wash over. His pale shoulders, cheeks and hips were dotted in thousands of tiny orange freckles. Scars were randomly placed here and there, products of Project Freelancer, Tucker guessed. Wash felt his cheeks burn at Tucker’s remark and curled in on himself a little. Noticing, Tucker leant down and placed a kiss on one of his hip bones. “Stop it, you’re fine.”

Tucker continued kissing Wash all the way up to his neck and lowered his hips, leaning against Wash, feeling his hard length against him. Wash ground up into Tucker, groaning, and was rewarded with a grunt from Tucker.

“Just to clarify,” Tucker started, “What exactly are we doing tonight?”

“It’s called sex Tucker. I’d think with how much you talk about it, you’d know what it is by now,” Wash replied dryly. Tucker moved his face away from Wash’s neck to frown at him.

“No, I mean, with us having different tattoos. Is it just sex or . . .”Tucker let the question hang in the air for a bit.

“I’m fine with just sex, but you’re kind of killing the mood right now,” Wash answered.

“Fuck you dude, I was trying to be considerate you prick,” Tucker grumbled.

“if you want.”

Tucker leaned down to bite Wash on the muscle connecting his shoulder to his neck as punishment. However, instead of hearing Wash curse him, Wash moaned, rolling his hips up into Tucker again.

“Well what do ya know, Wash likes being bitten.”

Tucker flashed Wash a smile and started kissing his shoulders and chest, grazing his teeth over Wash’s flesh every now and then and adding in little bites here and there. Wash found himself stuffing one of his knuckles into his mouth to stop from making too much noise. Feeling giddy, Tucker reached down and wrapped his hand around Wash’s cock, stroking him and feeling pre-cum spill out over the head. When Tucker stopped his attack on Wash’s chest, Wash looked down curiously.

Then he saw himself disappear into Tucker’s mouth.

Wash was instantly lost, throwing his head back and arching his back. Tucker chuckled and the vibration nearly sent Wash over the edge.

“Tucker,” Wash moaned, breathlessly, “Do you have, ugh.” Wash’s thoughts flew from his mind when he felt his tip hit the back of Tucker’s throat. “Jesus.”

“Mmm?” Tucker made a sound in recognition that he had heard Wash.

“Lube.” Wash breathed. An audible ‘pop’ sound made him glance down, both glad and a little disappointed. Tucker crawled up and leaned over to his ‘bed side table’ which had been crudely made out of an old filing cabinet he had found on the ship. When the bottle appeared, Wash spread his legs slightly, hinting to Tucker what he wanted.

Tucker moved to sit between Wash’s legs, pulling them apart further and placing a kiss to one of Wash’s thighs, sending a chill down Wash’s spine. Tucker coated two fingers in lube and traced them around Wash’s hole, sliding the tip of a finger in and wriggling it slightly.

“Been a while?” Tucker questioned. Wash’s cheeks flushed and he looked away slightly. “Wash?”

“Try never, when it comes to men,” Wash replied quietly. Tucker stared at him a little before shrugging.

“Well then, guess we won’t be doing squats tomorrow.” Tucker slid his finger in the rest of the way and wiggled it a bit until he hit a bump.

Wash instantly moaned, seeing stars and pre-cum started leaking from his penis again. Tucker slid his finger in and out, continuing to hit the bundle of nerves again each time and eventually added the second finger. He worked Wash loose, scissoring his fingers and tracing small patterns on Wash’s hip with his other hand.

“Tucker,” Wash moaned, panting heavily, “Tucker, please.”

Tucker grabbed the bottle of lube again and coated his dick, throwing the bottle to the side. Tucker positioned himself over Wash and pressed in a little with the head of his cock, watching Wash’s face for any signs of pain. Tucker waited after he had his whole head in, Wash still tense from the intrusion.

“You have to relax dude, or it’s gonna hurt,” Tucker barely managed to get out. The tightness alone was driving him mental.

Wash took in a deep breath and let it out, sighing and relaxing as he went. Tucker slid in more until he was fully sheathed in Wash. Tucker leant down and attached his lips to Wash’s neck and shoulders and ended with a soft bite to the muscle there. Wash wriggled his hips in response, trying to get Tucker to move. Tucker complied and began slowly thrusting, careful not to go too fast. After all, fast would come later. Tucker worked on finding the right angle, wanting to hit that sweet spot deep inside Wash again.

Suddenly, Wash cried out, bliss written on his face. Tucker thrust in at the same angle again, earning another moan and quickened his pace, making sure to hit that spot over and over. The warmth and moistness was starting to drag Tucker to the edge but he refused to let go until Wash had come. Reaching between them, Tucker grasped Wash’s cock in his warm, slightly wet hand and began pumping him in time with his thrusts. Wash stuffed his knuckles in his mouth again, only managing to stifle the noise a little bit as he moaned and cried out in pleasure.

“Tucker!” Wash cried out suddenly, spurts of cum shooting onto his stomach as Tucker pumped it all out. His thrusts became erratic as he joined Wash, burying himself deep as he came, lower body twitching.

 

 

After that first night, they had decided on some ground rules.

No staying to cuddling or actually sleep in each others bed.

No one else was allowed to know.


	2. I won't Say I'm In love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wash and Tucker tip toe on dangerous waters.

Tucker grumbled and sat up, glancing at the clock beside his bed. Armonia had terrible heat waves in the middle of the night and humid days. Tucker glanced down at the bandages wrapped around his torso. He had been specifically told by Dr. Emily Grey that if he re-opened them, she would do more than stitch them back up, and he didn’t plan on risking that.

Carefully, he got out of bed and walked out into the hallway. The Simulation Troopers had been given a small area of the army base to themselves. There was the Kitchen/dinning/common room in the center and four corridors with rooms attached to three of them. The last corridor lead to the bathroom. Beside the front door, a metal set of steps lead to the roof. Tucker climbed these in hopes that being outside under the stars would be cooler than his room. He was surprised to find Wash sitting up here, arms hugging his legs to his body, face turned to the expanse of darkness and stars.

Tucker cleared his throat, letting Wash know he was there.

“I heard you walk out the door and come up the steps,” Wash said to on one in particular. He turned his head to catch Tucker out of the corner of his eye and patted the ground next to him. Tucker obliged and sat down slowly next to Wash.

“Can’t sleep?” Tucker asked, leaning back on his hands, legs crossed in front of him.

“Yeah, you?”

“Too fucking hot man,” Tucker whined, throwing his head back to gaze at the stars, “This planet’s weather system is fucked up. I don’t even think Blood Gulch was this bad. At least it was cool at night.”

Wash snorted, remembering the box canyon and its complete emptiness apart from the two bases. He glanced at Tucker, and the pink cursive writing inked into his dark skin.

“Ever think you’ll find her?” Wash asked.

“Pfft, I’d be lucky to go two months without being pulled into some sort of battle or war,” Tucker responded. “What about you?”

Wash sighed, “You think I’d seriously have more luck than you?” He raised an eyebrow in Tucker’s direction. Tucker snorted, a small laugh escaping him.

“Maybe not.”

 

 

Tucker found himself sitting next to Wash on the common room lounge. Caboose howled in laughter when Simmons failed to beat him at Snap for the fourth time in a row. Grif was sitting on the side, between them, mocking Simmons, laughing each time the red head got frustrated.

Carolina, Church and Kimball were chatting in the kitchenette. Church must have said something stupid, because now Carolina and Kimball were nearly screeching at him. Tucker wasn’t sure where Sarge, Lopez and Donut had disappeared to, and he wasn’t too interested to know anyway.

“Fucking dickhead,” Tucker mumbled as Carolina stood with her hands on her hips, glaring at the A.I. Fragment. He had his arm resting on top of the back of the couch, slightly turned so he could see them.

“What’s going on?” Wash asked, leaning his head on Tucker’s shoulder and closing his eyes. Tucker’s face suddenly felt warm.

“Church is trying to tell Carolina and Kimball how to perform some sort of fighting technique and instead of shutting up, just keeps digging his hole.” Tucker subconsciously leaned in towards Wash and accommodated him.

“He tends to put himself in a bad spot quite a lot,” Wash mentioned, tilting his head back so he was slightly looking up at Tucker.

“Yeah, well, he is a dickhead,” Tucker replied and placed a small kiss on Wash’s forehead.

. . .

Too late. Tucker realised too late what he had just done.

“Did you just . . .” Wash began. Tucker jumped up, knocking Wash off of him in the process and hitting his stab wound as well, letting out a small hiss. It was still tender.

“Um,” Tucker blurted out, not sure how to continue. Caboose had noticed the sudden movement and had looked up at Tucker, Grif and Simmons following suit.

“Tucker! Tucker! Why are you leaking?” Caboose suddenly shouted. By the time Tucker realised what Caboose had said, he was falling. Wash jumped to grab him before he hit the floor.

 

 

It was a while before Tucker was allowed out of the infirmary. Dr. Grey had grilled him as soon as he had woken up and had decided that letting him wander around whilst still in the process of healing was a bad idea.

When Tucker left, he no longer needed bandages or stitches but was told to take it easy for the next two week. Tucker sheepishly thanked Dr. Grey and headed towards the Sim. Troopers base. Instead of walking inside, he made his way up to the roof and lay down. Every time Wash had attempted to visit him during his time in the infirmary, Tucker had feigned sleep. He assumed it had worked because Wash never stayed longer than five minutes before squeezing his hand and leaving.

He didn’t know how long he had been on the roof before he heard the shuffling of feet, warning him of someone’s presence.

“You’re not pretending to be asleep again, are you?” Dammit.

“What.” Tucker decided he didn’t care anymore. If the world was going to be cruel, then he was going to stand there with his middle finger up.

When Wash didn’t speak, Tucker thought he had decided to walk away and leave him be. Instead, he felt someone sit beside him and block out the sun above them.

Warm lips were pressed against his in the next second and Tucker felt his heart swell in his chest. It was another one of their rules. No kissing on the lips. Lips meant passion, and passion lead to love. When Wash moved away, Tucker opened his eyes and squinted, almost being completely blinded by the direct sunlight. He reached up and grabbed the back of Wash’s neck and pulled him down again.

This time, Wash half laid on him, mindful of the wound still on his lower abdomen. Their lips slid against each other, licking and nipping, Tucker pulling Wash’s bottom lip into his mouth playfully.

Wash let Tucker breath, “Well, I don’t know about you, but I think the universe is wrong.”

Tucker chuckled at the comment. “No shit,” he replied.


	3. I Won't Give Up

Tucker groaned as Wash bobbed his head, taking Tucker in each time with practiced ease. They knew it wasn’t just sex anymore. If they ever met their soul mates, well, that would be a bridge they’d cross when they get there. It still hurt though, every time Wash traced the pink cursive writing on Tucker’s shoulder, or when tucker caught the bold letters on Wash’s wrist.

They’d been dragged through worse after all.

Tucker slid the bottle of lube down towards Wash, spreading his legs further. Wash removed his mouth from Tucker’s cock, the cool air making Tucker shiver.

The seasons were changing on Chorus, a colder, dryer climate rolling in. Kimball had mention this season. The planet would cool down, frost would accumulated over night, but the flora would burst out of the ground and the plants would flower, thriving in the colder climate.

The sound of the bottle lid clicking closed caught Tucker out of his thoughts as Wash slid a finger inside him, going straight for the bundle of nerves. Tucker moaned, not even bothering to cover his mouth. They had this wing of the base to themselves after Carolina and Church had brazenly told them at breakfast one morning in front of everyone, that if they were going to fuck, they might as well let Tucker and Caboose switch rooms so they didn’t have to hear the pair.

Tucker wriggled and Wash inserted another finger, working Tucker open, earning high pitched moans from the darker man. Wash leaned over Tucker, catching his lips roughly before moving down to one of Tucker’s sensitive nipples. Tucker rolled his hips, urging Wash on, ecstasy running through him.

Wash removed his fingers. Tucker whined pathetically before the feel of something much bigger at his entrance caused him to wiggle his hips downwards.

“Well, you’re pretty horny tonight,” Wash chuckled.

“Shut up asshole,” Tucker whined before gasping. Wash had push the head of his cock into tucker and pulled out again, teasing the man below him. “I swear to god Wash, if you don’t . . .”

Tucker was cut off when Wash plunged deep into him, hitting his spot and sending stars into his eyes.

“David.”

Tucker frowned at Wash. “What?”

“My name,” Wash started, sliding out a bit, “Is David.” He plunged back in and Tucker squealed in ecstasy.

“David!” Tucker groaned, letting the name roll off of his tongue. He smiled. Wash felt his heart flutter and his cheeks blush at hearing his name roll off Tucker’s tongue.

“Lavernius,” Wash whispered huskily into Tucker’s ear. He started thrusting harder, faster, and reached down between them to grasp Tucker’s cock in his hand. Tucker didn’t last much longer after that.

“David!” Tucker moaned, high and loud, feeling his seed warm against his stomach. Wash thrust into Tucker’s convulsing muscles before toppling over the edge himself.

Panting, they stayed there a moment before Wash pulled out. Wash grabbed a towel he had discarded earlier and wiped Tucker’s stomach and ass before wiping himself off.

“Thanks asshole,” Tucker mumbled.

“You’re such a charmer Babe,” Wash replied, smiling softly before settling down beside Tucker. Tucker turned on his side and shuffled back into Wash’s warmth. Wash wrapped his arms around Tucker and pulled him closer.

 

 

When Wash woke the next morning, the bed next to him was empty. He frowned, knowing Tucker wasn’t an early riser and lifted his head to look around the room. He noticed Tucker standing, staring into the decent sized mirror Wash had in his room. He wasn’t moving.

“Tucker?” Wash asked. Curious, he got out of bed and walked over to his boyfriend, “What are you,” Wash stopped at looked at Tucker in the mirror from behind, “Looking at.” Wash felt his jaw drop and his face heat up. There, where pink cursive letters had once adorned the expanse of skin below Tucker’s left collar bone, almost over his heart, were grey letters in handwriting that looked almost like scribble. If wash hadn’t recognised the style, he would’ve dismissed it as wishful thinking.

Looking down at his right wrist, he stared in shock. Tucker turned to look at his wrist too. The skin there was milky white. No blocky letters in black ink anywhere.

“What the . . .” Wash started when Tucker pushed him in front of the mirror and pointed to the point on his shoulder where the muscle connected to his neck. Broken, aqua letters were sprawled along the muscle. _Lavernius_. Wash gasped and looked back at Tucker’s chest.

_David._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, hope you like this, I know, there are already sooo many soul mate stories but meh . . . anyways, a kudos would be appreciated and please feel free to leave some constructive criticism. Later Dudes!


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